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The image of my father dying flashed in my mind, crippling me with grief. The blade ran through his throat. He screamed in agony, begging for his life.
Then, the image was gone. I felt Orla’s embrace. For a second, I thought she was doing it inside my mind, but then, I realized that she was actually hugging me.
“You cannot protect the princess, Orla,” Queill said. “She’s going to suffer greatly in either case. You can’t stop me.”
It’s okay, Orla said. She was talking to me directly. Lady Queill did not even hear it. You can do this.
Do what? I asked.
Protect yourself.
Confusion rose in me. Orla was here. I did not have to protect myself. I wasn’t alone like I had been for many years in the arena.
She was here.
She was strong.
She would...
The ceiling broke.
A piece of it fell and went straight for us both. Moving in the air, aided by Queill’s earth magic.
Orla pushed me away and as I fell, I heard the crackling of bone.
When I turned to see what it was, I saw Orla lying on the ground.
The stone must have hit her head, blood drizzled out of her forehead.
More blood gushed from her forehead as her eyes closed.
“Stop!” I shouted, but it was already done. Orla lay on the ground, body limp and blood dripped from her forehead.
“Watch me,” Lady Queill said.
She was walking toward Orla.
But her focus was on me.
Fear crippled me. I was weak. Fragile. There was nothing I could do to stop this woman. Orla would die. Kieran would die. Everyone I knew and loved would perish in this useless war against the Queen of Light. Lugh would reign, and the lands would be covered in darkness.
That darkness scared me.
Tears poured out of my eyes as I watched Lady Queill reach Orla. She grabbed Orla’s chin and forced her mouth open.
“I like to finish what I’ve started,” Queill said as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial.
I wanted to stop her.
I had to stop her.
When I got up, her hand stopped moving. I felt the stone underneath my feet getting ready for a fight as the fear in me multiplied.
My father dying. Kieran dying. Orla dying.
She showed me each image with grave detail. She imagined them as I would, surrounded in pain and grief.
I felt it all.
